


Sleep Spells

by jongdae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Narcolepsy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4444925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jongdae/pseuds/jongdae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'll be the phillip to your aurora, Baek.<br/>We're in college, Dae.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep Spells

**Author's Note:**

> This was to fight off 1) my writer's block. It's not the best, quality-wise, but I have a soft spot for some moments in these.  
> 2) my own sleep spells. I fell asleep at two almost every day at my college's lounge.

Baekhyun is having another one of those spells.

 

Whoever the shit keeps casting them, Jongdae curses half-heartedly as he drags his friend up the stairs, Baekhyun’s hand barely holding onto Jongdae’s shoulder. 

At some distance a clock strikes two in the afternoon.

“Sleeping ugly,” Jongdae comments as he sees Baekhyun drooling a bit onto Jongdae’s other shoulder. 

“Shut up,” Baekhyun bites back weakly, squeezing his eyes shut while wiping the drool off unto Jongdae’s favorite shirt.

“I do have a handkerchief, had you just asked,” Jongdae grimaces.

“I never said I needed one.”

“This is my favorite shirt.”

“I’m your favorite best friend.”

They reach the third floor, and Jongdae looks up and gives the last sprint a good look before going on.

“I think you should go see the nurse. Better yet, a doctor,” Jongdae replies instead. Baekhyun groans.

“I’m fine.”

“I’ve googled this up, y’know. I think you got something like narcolepsy.”

“I don’t have narcolepsy.”

“I bet you don’t even know what it is.”

“Whatever.”

“Cause it’s not like you’re sleeping late or not getting sleep, right?”

“I don’t. With Yixing as your dorm-mate, you sleep at nine, no buts.”

“That’s nuts in a whole other sense… but this means that your sleeping spells in the middle of the day are anything but normal.”

“I like being special,” Baekhyun’s voice lowers with diminuendo. 

“That’s beside the point.”

 

There's a silent pause.

 

Jongdae’s words hang in the air a bit eerily. 

He takes a side peek and realizes the other boy has dozed off. Baekhyun feels a bit heavier, and Jongdae sees that the spell has struck harder, has struck more mercilessly.

There’re barely a few more steps to go before they reach Baekhyun’s floor, the fourth floor. Jongdae looks at the stairs, looks up, out the window at the top of the stairs, catches glimpses of the wind blowing before looking back down at the other’s sleeping face.

* * *

It’s barely two in the afternoon according to the ticking clock above Yixing’s head.

“You’re the bestest, J’ngdae, y’know,” Baekhyun says in between his yawns as Jongdae settles the other onto the bed, placing his best friend’s bag atop a chest of drawers, saying a silent hi to Yixing who’s blanking out from studying what seems to be linguistics. 

“Of course,” Jongdae deadpans. Baekhyun opens one eye and from that one eye, observes Jongdae’s entire expression with curious scrutiny.

“That was a compliment,” Baekhyun clarifies.

“I suppose.”

There’s an odd pause.

“I’m sorry you had to miss your lab so you can bring me up here,” Baekhyun whispers solemnly, a hand going through his hair slowly.

Jongdae smiles briefly. “It’s alright. I needed a break from those six hour labs anyways.”

“I know how much you like those labs, ‘dae.”

Yixing heads out, saying he’s forgotten he had class. Silence dives unceremoniously into the dorm room. Baekhyun shifts a bit, half of his face buried deep into his pillow. 

Next thing Jongdae knows, Baekhyun starts snoring softly, mouth slightly ajar.

 

“Well, I like you too,” Jongdae mutters bravely into the air, but those words only echo into an inaudible lullaby, as if they are not meant to be.

* * *

“He’s asleep,” Kyungsoo informs. Jongdae stares at the lump on the sofa in the student lounge.

“How long’s your break?” Chanyeol asks nonchalantly.

“I’ve a class at three o’ five. Got two hours.”

“He’s yours then.”

“Sure.”

They both leave.

Jongdae sits at the desk and chair next to the sofa. He takes out his laptop, textbook, papers, pencil case. He starts working on a report he’s only half-done with. But he can’t seem to concentrate. He glances at Baekhyun’s sleeping face. 

He gets a sort of déjà-vu feeling because every day at around the exact same hour Jongdae is to stare at his face. It’s comforting and unsettling at the same time.

After half an hour, Baekhyun groans and turns over. 

Luhan, a fourth year, walks out the lounge when Minseok comes in to pick him up. 

It’s around one-thirty. In another half hour, Baekhyun should be in his econ class, Jongdae remembers. 

He’s not sure if he should wake the other up for it. It’s a good distance’s walk. Maybe with narcolepsy it’s not such a great – not to mention feasible – idea, Jongdae contemplates. 

He looks at Baekhyun’s face again because this time he’s facing the light. There are strands of his auburn-colored hair over his cheek. Jongdae fights the urge of brushing them away by refocusing on his report. 

He types out one sentence swiftly. A serious, objective, scientific sentence about how something or another did not work because of the absence of something or another, according to some graph analysis. 

Basically a sentence that’s anything but clear and concise. A sentence he ends up backspacing in flat frustration.

He cracks his neck, stares up at the boring gray ceiling. He blinks several times and idly wonders about the shortest way to get to Baekhyun’s next classroom. 

Baekhyun shifts, and Jongdae turns his attention to him again.

This time he has a fuller view of Baekhyun’s neck and jawline. Jongdae bites his lower lip nervously.

The air becomes a bit stiff, and so Jongdae decides he better open up a window. He shuffles over, opens one, pokes his head out, breathes the entire atmosphere in, comes back to his seat huffing lightly. 

He is a bit more light-headed than he thinks. A bit dizzy as his gray cells digest the overdose of oxygen.

 

Jongdae is fighting so many urges. Jongdae is fighting a losing battle. 

He takes a deep breath. His hand reaches out. 

He just wants to … adjust Baekhyun’s shirt collar. It’s been bothering him. It’s the whole entire reason he can’t do his report.

He flattens one side gently.

Baekhyun wakes up straightaway. “’Dae?”

Jongdae processes his mild heart seizure first.

“…You got a class, soon-ish,” Jongdae then manages. Baekhyun smiles.

“Aye, you know how I hate that class,” Baekhyun whines playfully and lazily. He attempts to sit up but only sinks deeper into the cushion.

“Come on, I’ll even go with you.” Jongdae offers.

“ _You_ have class, Dae,” Baekhyun tries to remind both himself and Jongdae, a frown appearing across his forehead.

“That’s _my_ argument,” Jongdae retorts. 

“Touché,” Baekhyun smiles. “Okay, help me up then.”

Jongdae does. 

“I think they’re better, the sleep spells, that is,” Baekhyun reassures softly when he sees Jongdae’s face imprinted with worry when Baekhyun wobbles a bit. “Even Chanyeol thinks so.”

“That is _hardly_ convincing.” 

Somewhere in the middle of drama lit class, Chanyeol sneezes.

“Even Kyungsoo thinks so,” Baekhyun reinforces, lips puckered childishly. Jongdae chuckles.

“And that’s a blatant lie.”

“Shh,” Baekhyun shushes, but it comes out like a silent giggle. He stabilizes a bit, grabs his bag, starts walking to the door.

“My head sure is heavy,” Baekhyun realizes when he reaches it.

“Need a shoulder?” Jongdae suggests.

“I’ll be fine. You go to your own class, I’ll go to mine. We’ll be good students.”

“I—”

“I’m fine. It’s just an afternoon nap, not narcolepsy. Later, Dae.”

Jongdae frowns.

* * *

“You’ve been awfully uptight. Your frowns are becoming permanent. Something’s on your mind.”

Jongdae shifts uneasily in his seat. “… Baekhyun’s daytime sleep spells. I think they’re a bit worrisome.”

“Midterms maybe?”

“He only had one midterm. He said it had been a piece of cake. Everyone wanted to strangle him.”

“How long?”

“The sleep spells? Over a week and a half.”

“ _He_ should be the one seeing a nurse. Not you.”

“That’s what I told him. He thinks he’s fine. Besides, you’re barely a nurse assistant. Don’t get cocky.”

“ _You_ couldn’t convince him?” the barely-a-nurse-assistant raises an eyebrow. “I thought that was your best asset. Also come on. Nurse _assistant_. Cocky is part of my job description.”

Jongdae rolls his eyes. “Thanks, Sehun.”

“You’re very welcome,” Sehun answers lightheartedly then sits a bit straighter and asks, “it’s been a week and half, ‘that it?”

“Yeah.”

“Stuff like narcolepsy can’t be diagnosed before like, months. Usually gets misdiagnosed too. I think Baek needs to see a nurse-slash-doctor, for sure, but I wouldn’t worry so much. You haven’t been yourself, and I think that worries me more.”

Jongdae nods slowly.

“For all we know, he probably hung around Jongin too much last month. Sleepiness rubs off easily,” Sehun hypothesizes.

Jongdae grins. “Right.”

“Have _you_ even been sleeping?”

“Sure. Just not so well.”

“You dream about him?”

“ _Sehun_.”

Sehun smiles his trademark creep smile. 

“You have class now, don’t you? Baekhyun told you to go. Keep your promises, hyung.”

“I didn’t promise him.”

“Hyung, I know deep down you want to promise him everything.”

Sehun tries not to laugh, but Jongdae puckers his lips and whines, “ _Gross_ , Sehun. Actually, that was just far worse than just _gross_.”

“Attaboy, atta,” Sehun shoos his hyung, and Jongdae glares.

 

Jongdae leaves the infirmary, a tad lighter, a tad more relaxed. He doesn’t bother waving a goodbye at Sehun, so he heads out without turning back, but a few steps on he does because of dumb conscience, and he smiles at Sehun who had been waiting for it.

* * *

“Baek?”

Jongdae pokes his best friend lightly in the shoulder, but the latter is still sound asleep. Chanyeol’s digital watch beeps two P.M. 

Chanyeol looks at his watch with a frown and then at Baekhyun’s sleeping face before asking, “What does A.M. and P.M. stand for?”

“ _Ante meridiem_ and _post meridiem_ ,” Kyungsoo replies flatly. Jongdae twirls with a pen but it falls to the ground.

“How many days has it been now?” Kyungsoo asks the more pertinent question, and Jongdae shrugs.

“A bit over two weeks? But his spells are less frequent.”

“Hopefully they’re coming to an end. You’ve been missing class for him, haven’t you?” 

Kyungsoo is very observant. Jongdae doesn’t bother answering. Chanyeol heaves a sigh.

“You should go today. He’d be really upset if he knew,” the taller boy says glumly. 

“It’s okay, my classes are recorded. I don’t really need to go.”

“Jongdae,” both Kyungsoo and Chanyeol utter simultaneously.

Jongdae smiles weakly.

“Jongdae?” 

Baekhyun wakes up. “What about ‘dae?”

“He just told us a really bad joke,” Chanyeol covers up quickly enough before Baekhyun starts doubting anything.

“Oh! I could use a bad Jongdae joke.”

Jongdae glares inimically at Chanyeol for a split second before turning to Baekhyun.

“What did the finger say to the thumb?” Jongdae prompts nonchalantly, a joke he barely remembers off the top of his head.

Baekhyun frowns pensively. “Uh.”

Jongdae gives him two more seconds.

 

“I’m in glove with you.”

 

There’s an odd pause in the air, a little longer than the usual time used to “getting” the joke and going through the “oh god this is so bad” moment, and Jongdae wishes he could retract the joke the same way he always does when he wonders why he’s so good at telling said bad jokes. 

(Not to mention, that punch line came out a bit strangely, a bit mixed with something else Jongdae doesn’t want to think about.)

But to Jongdae’s relief, Baekhyun bursts out laughing, Chanyeol is grinning from ear to ear, and Kyungsoo has that creepy but cute face on.

“Oh god, that was so bad,” Baekhyun hiccups in his laughter, and Jongdae’s beaming smile couldn’t get any brighter. 

“Ah! I got class soon, don’t I? Someone’s got the time?” Baekhyun says as he gathers his things clumsily, throws his bag over his shoulder.

“It’s a quarter past two,” Chanyeol says, “also about time you either get yourself a watch, or look up to read a clock.”

Baekhyun looks up and finds the clock. “Ah. Right. I forgot there was a clock there. Thanks.”

“Any time.”

“Oh wow, I’m late,” Baekhyun announces a few seconds later because that’s when it actually clicks. Then something else also clicks in his head.

“Wait, aren’t you guys all supposed to be in class now?” he asks, a brow raised, a sweeping hand gesturing at the other three students.

“Ours got cancelled,” Chanyeol lies smoothly, and Kyungsoo keeps a straight face. Baekhyun turns to Jongdae, who rubs the back of his neck nervously.

A tense pause.

“I was on my way,” Jongdae says earnestly as he gets up, picks up his own bag. “I was just waiting for you to wake up.”

Chanyeol and Kyungsoo roll their eyes in sync. Kyungsoo then motions something like wanting to hurl.

“Aww,” Baekhyun grins, and that prompts Jongdae to smile his usual cheeky smile.

 

Somehow it feels like everything is okay, Jongdae thinks as they both walk out the lounge.

Just like a dark cloud that passes but soon goes away.

* * *

It’s almost two in the afternoon. Baekhyun is taking a nap. Jongdae is writing his lab report. It’s become a new usual.

In a few minutes Jongdae will have to shake Baekhyun awake and they will leave for class. Tell each other jokes on the way. Try not to laugh at the whiskers Jongdae may or may not have drawn on Baekhyun’s face while the latter was sleeping. Have Baekhyun strangle him once he realizes his face is a Kris-style mess.

The spells have been better, they’re not as sudden as the ones before. Baekhyun just falls asleep when he’s sitting on the lounge couch instead of falling asleep on the cold hall floor on his way to his dorm room. 

Baekhyun doesn’t have the tired look as much as he did in the previous two weeks. In fact, his sleeping face looks more peaceful, more nourished. Cuter too. And less drool.

It’s become more of a habit than a disorder maybe, Sehun had told Jongdae the other day.

Jongdae pokes Baekhyun’s face, but the other just winces and doesn’t bother opening his eyes. Jongdae puckers his lips.

“Baek. It’s time.”

Baekhyun merely groans, turns his back to Jongdae.

“Rude,” Jongdae whines. He resorts to shaking Baekhyun boldly.

“Alright, bro. I’m awake, just give me a … minute,” Baekhyun murmurs near the end of his sentence, his eyes still closed.

Jongdae waits the full minute and then shakes Baekhyun again.

“I’m awake,” Baekhyun snarls. He sits up a bit, rubs his eye with the back of his hand, yawns like a puppy.

Baekhyun then throws his head back a bit, looks at Jongdae intently then smiles. “Tell me a bad joke.”

Jongdae ponders a bit.

“What do you call the security guards outside of Samsung?” Jongdae asks.

Baekhyun starts laughing. “I already know this one: guardians of the galaxy.”

“Couldn’t expect any less. You’re _the_ true bad-joke expert here. We all know that.”

“That’s a compliment, right? Let me tell you one too: who invented the knock-knock jokes?”

It’s Jongdae’s turn to laugh. “Clearly we’ve been on the same website: it’s the guy who won a No-bell prize.”

Baekhyun gasps. “No! Damn it! I thought this one was so good. Sucks when people know your jokes.”

“Better luck next time.”

“I’ll find something you don’t know! I will!” Baekhyun wails.

“If you’re not asleep half the time, yes, I do suppose you would,” Jongdae snorts.

“Oh shut up!”

* * *

It’s around one in the afternoon. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo have just left the lounge for their drama lit class.

Jongdae is sitting on the couch with Baekhyun sleeping on his shoulder. It’s heavy but Jongdae doesn’t mind. He tries catching up with his readings but the textbook in front of him is anything but intriguing.

He looks at Baekhyun’s sleeping face. He looks at Baekhyun’s eyelashes, eyelids, the beauty mark close to his right eye, the beauty mark above his lips. 

The urges are back, Jongdae realizes. 

But instead of fighting them so much, he relaxes, takes them in, carefully tilts his head a bit so he can press his cheek against the other’s auburn hair. He turns his head slowly, takes a whiff of the shampoo fragrance he’s all too familiar with. He stays put. He side-eyes his textbook. 

He also catches Luhan “awww”-ing at him in a disgusting way. Jongdae rolls his eyes, continues his readings. 

He feels Baekhyun waking up, so he quickly shifts his head to the other side.

“Dae, is it time? God, my neck is stiff. You’ve got a bloody hard shoulder. Worst pillow ever.”

“You’re very welcome,” Jongdae deadpans. “I try to be the _bestest_.”

“What does a clock do when it is hungry?” Baekhyun prompts randomly. Jongdae raises an eyebrow, which makes Baekhyun’s eyes sparkle with glorious victory: he finally found a good bad joke Jongdae hasn’t heard of.

“It goes back four seconds!” Baekhyun exclaims with glee.

In the background, Luhan snorts, and Jongdae can’t help but titter awkwardly for two seconds. 

“Wasn’t it hilarious?”

“Average.”

“Okay, no, _you_ give me a better joke and we’ll see.”

“Did you hear about the new movie called ‘Constipation’?”

“No …? Is it good?”

“Well, it hasn’t come out yet.”

“When does it— oh fuc—” Baekhyun is laughing his head off as Minseok walks in. The senior eyes Baekhyun curiously.

“Oh _god_ , that was seriously really bad.”

“Any time, bro.”

* * *

Jongdae wants to kiss him, he realizes.

 

And it’s like everything in the room, all the inanimate objects that are just sitting around, have been sitting around since forever, were secretly urging him to, too. 

Suddenly the words “kiss him” seem to be imprinted everywhere in transparent ink. Jongdae tries blinking them away.

He has this sense of déjà-vu again, and he realizes maybe it’s because he had looped Sebastian’s _Kiss the Girl_ too many times when he was a kid.

Then again, maybe it’s more like the way Phillip gazes at Aurora when he finds her at the tallest tower, sleeping soundly, sleeping just to wait for him, and only him, to break the spell.

Jongdae shakes the thoughts away. He blames Baekhyun for making him marathon Disney princess classics the night before.

He types another un-thoughtful sentence into his report and backspaces it.

There’s no one in the lounge though, Jongdae thinks.

No one will ever know, the room whispers back.

Jongdae gulps. He puts his laptop away. 

He looks at Baekhyun’s sleeping face. His heartbeat starts pacing. 

Jongdae doesn’t do anything for a while. He even stops to stare. He looks away, looks out the window. He looks at the light drizzle outside. 

He won’t do it, he decides.

He can’t do it, he reminds himself. 

Because the one thing he’d truly hate is to kiss someone who’s unconscious. Kiss someone without their permission. Kiss someone and likely not get a response.

He takes his laptop and starts typing in data for one of the graphs.

* * *

“So, have you confessed?”

“Wait, what?”

“Oh come on.”

“Confessed what to whom?” Jongdae plays stupid.

“Don’t play stupid,” Luhan catches on.

Jongdae tilts his head towards the sleeping boy next to him and whispers, “sshh.”

“He’s sound asleep. You could French kiss him and he’d still be asleep dreaming about some hot girl.”

“That’s probably the worst thing you can ever tell a person with a sappy crush on their straight best friend,” Jongdae murmurs angrily with hand gestures that don’t mean anything in particular.

“Hey, it was still PG-13,” Luhan smirks. “Also, ya just let the cat out of the bag. So tell me, when’s the confession? Or the wedding?”

“Won’t happen in your lifetime, as far as I can approximate.”

“I’m not that old, damn it. Also, that’s just really sad. You’d be old and crinkly.”

“Whatever.”

“Well, I guess if you have a crush who’s asleep twenty-four-seven…”

“Thanks for rubbing that in my face.”

“You should just confess the second he wakes. Surely he’d give you a few seconds?”

“I’m not entirely sure confessions are a matter of, quote unquote, a few seconds.”

“Confess what?”

They both turn towards Baekhyun who just woke up. Luhan nudges Jongdae indiscreetly. 

“It’s nothing,” Jongdae says without thinking, but that doesn’t cover up anything; it’s hardly convincing and of course Baekhyun doesn’t buy it.

Luhan sees Minseok walk in, and he stands up, ruffles Jongdae’s hair, takes his bag, walks out with the other hyung with a smile akin to the devil’s.

 

They’re alone.

“Don’t even try covering it up with a bad joke,” Baekhyun says, a tad stern.

Jongdae wonders if he’s got any other escape route.

“You got class—”

“— That’s in thirty minutes, there’s a clock right there, nice try,” Baekhyun cuts in. 

Jongdae feels more and more cornered. He shifts his eyes to something behind Baekhyun.

“I’m _not_ falling for that,” Baekhyun says, to Jongdae’s dismay.

“It’s nothing,” Jongdae tries again.

“I’m not stupid, I can tell it’s _not_ nothing.”

“It’s got nothing to do with you,” Jongdae retorts nervously, “You’re … always … _asleep_ anyways. It’s none of your concern.”

“ _Oh_.”

Jongdae doesn’t like the sound of that.

“I’m s—” 

“Don’t. I get it. Luhan makes a good ‘new’ best friend,” Baekhyun picks up his things. “You tell each other secrets over my sleeping body. It’s totally cool.”

“I _rarely_ talk to Luhan, you know tha—”

“Yeah, whatever, I don’t care. You can talk with anyone you want while I’m asleep. It’s totally cool. Don’t feel bad about it. Sleep spells are so out of style,” Baekhyun says in cheerless succession. “I got class.”

Jongdae winces. “You got class in thirty minutes.”

“I have a midterm,” Baekhyun informs, “I’m gonna go find myself a seat with a meter radius of no one else. Bye Dae.”

“Baek—” 

 

 

 

There’s a tiny moment where Jongdae sees the four walls of the lounge just swirling around him in a slow cyclonic motion. 

It’s nauseating just as it’s nauseating how the conversation buildup so fast Jongdae barely remembers how it all even started.

He felt like he knew how this was all supposed to go. 

They had a stupid row because Luhan was a jerk and Jongdae couldn’t find the balls to confess. Now Baekhyun is walking out the door, heading to a class he’s thirty minutes early for, carrying a bag of ugly nouns like anger, frustration, fury, rage, and mild vindictiveness. 

Typical stupidities, typical mistakes, typical passive-aggressiveness, typical cold-shouldering.

 

 

That Baekhyun would collapse and hit the doorframe really hard, and then the floor even _harder_ was not something Jongdae had expected, at all. 

At all.

* * *

“Concussion?” Jongdae asks Sehun when the assistant comes out of the infirmary.

“Hard to say, but I think not. I’m suspecting cataplexy instead, what with the narcoleptic symptoms. Was he laughing really hard or extremely angry at the time?”

Jongdae hesitates, and then just whispers, “The latter.”

“Ah. Well, aren’t you going to go in? Both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo are in. Shouldn’t you be in there too?”

“He doesn’t want to see me right now,” Jongdae replies feebly, and Sehun just eyes him.

“That’s just bull. I think he wants to see you the most.”

“I doubt it. We kind of had a row.”

“You’re going to let a row stand in the way?” Sehun asks, but Jongdae can’t tell if he is being ironic or not.

“I don’t know,” he replies glumly. Sehun punches him in the shoulder.

“I’ll get Chanyeol and Kyungsoo out if you prefer.”

“No, that just sounds worse. I’ll just … visit later. I’ve got to leave. I got… class.”

“You don’t have class, hyung.”

But Jongdae is already walking down the hall.

* * *

“Baekhyun’s asking for you,” Chanyeol says.

Jongdae doesn’t look up from his laptop. He’s already written about 23487384 sentences that don’t make sense, and he’s just staring blankly at them, trying to figure out where the vanishing point is, where the problem is.

“He’s not angry anymore,” Chanyeol adds. “Dae, come on.”

Jongdae doesn’t want to think about Baekhyun.

“I have a report to type up.”

“Jongdae, you’re at this whole new level of low and stupid,” Kyungsoo comments. “And we all know, very clearly, that you won’t ever finish this report while you have Baekhyun on your mind.”

Jongdae glares at Kyungsoo. “I don’t have Baekhyun on my mind.”

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. 

“Come on, Dae, Baek’s been waiting for you for a whole week already,” Chanyeol whines impatiently. 

Jongdae keeps typing without further comment.

“He says he’s sorry he’s pushed you to confess,” Kyungsoo adds impatiently, and that makes Jongdae look up from his laptop.

But he just stares at Kyungsoo blankly.

“Just go, Dae, I swear on Kyungsoo’s head you won’t regret it,” Chanyeol says.

 

Jongdae bites his lip. 

 

 

Chanyeol and Kyungsoo must have set this up, Jongdae thinks.

“He’s waiting for you at S— building room 214.”

There’s no way Baekhyun would have gone to somewhere as far as S— building’s room 214. 

The building is on the outskirts of the campus; the classroom is at the end of the corridor that usually has no classes because there aren’t enough desks.

It’s a big classroom, a bit yellowed because it hasn’t been used, a bit orange-y because of the sunlight pouring in through the windows.

Baekhyun is sleeping on a desk in the middle of the room. 

His posture is anything but elegant, presentable. At least, not with the drool. 

On the blackboard that probably hasn’t been used since forever, there are flourished chicken scratches, written with what seems to be a tiny piece of chalk, that read:

“KiSs yOur AuRoRa.”

And, right underneath, in Kyungsoo’s neater writing: “Don’t worry, we got his permission.”

Jongdae sighs very deeply. 

He walks to Baekhyun and looks at the sleeping face he hasn’t seen in a week.

He reaches out, brushes a lock of auburn hair gently. Brushes it too gently.

“I really like you, Baek,” he says bravely, and he gets a sense of déjà-vu; a scene in Baekhyun’s dorm room flashes in his mind, passing by like a fleeting image of a long ago dream.

He kneels down so he can rest his head on the desk, opposite to Baekhyun.

Jongdae stares for a while. A cloud passes by, and the room darkens for a while.

 

The clock of the classroom has long stopped, but the clock hands indicate two in the afternoon.

He’ll wake soon, Jongdae deduces instinctively.

 

As if on cue, Baekhyun does. He wakes, flinches a bit from seeing Jongdae.

He rubs his eyes, glances around the room, stops to stare at something behind Jongdae. The latter assumes Baekhyun is reading the scratches on the board.

“Chanyeol and Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun says, shaking his head lightly.

“They didn’t ask for your permission, did they,” Jongdae guesses nonchalantly.

“Of course not,” Baekhyun answers. 

Jongdae smiles briefly.

“I would never have agreed to such a cheesy setup,” Baekhyun explains.

“That’s debatable.”

“Fight me,” Baekhyun entices. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae offers instead.

“You had better be.”

A pause. 

“I’m sorry too.”

Jongdae looks away. “How’s your head?”

Baekhyun reaches up and touches his temple, the side that had hit the doorframe. “It’s okay. I didn’t hit it too hard.”

Jongdae lets out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he had been holding. “Good to know.”

 

 

“So, Dae.”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve got something to tell me, haven’t you?”

“Yeah.”

 

 

“Take your time.”

Baekhyun leans forward a bit, plays with his fingers, doesn’t really look up.

 

 

“I…” Jongdae starts. Looks down, bites his lower lip. Looks away. Looks out the window. 

 

His mind is a blank.

 

 

“Dae, if it helps, I can go first.”

Jongdae looks up at Baekhyun, slightly confused, and the latter takes a deep breath.

 

 

“Dae, you're really really really _stupid_ and _shit_ , especially after cold-shouldering me for a whole bloody week, but I really really really like you and you had better confess back properly or I will personally strangle you while we’re still in this _very_ conveniently _isolated_ place.”

 

 

Jongdae laughs. The sunrays sort of dive in even brighter and somehow there’s something warmer than just the sunrays’ warmth. 

 

 

“Hurry up, Dae, I’m not gonna be waiting all day. Just in case you forgot, I have narcolepsy and I could legit fall asleep any moment. In fact, I’m feeling awfully sleepy right now.”

 

 

Jongdae’s laughters turn into a cheeky smile. 

 

 

“I really, really, really like you too.”

 

 

 

“Fucking finally,” Baekhyun whispers.

 

 

 

 

“Yeah,” Jongdae grins. 

 

 

 

“Are you going to kiss me now? Cause if _I_ have to start it then—”

 

 

Jongdae kisses him. Gently. 

 

He doesn’t know what to do beyond that. They’re suddenly so very close. Their foreheads are pressed against each other. He gets a bit dizzy. 

 

“That’s it? You’re just gonna give me that one tiny kiss? Come on, my grandma gives me, like, a bajillion kisses at a time,” Baekhyun whines, his eyes still closed.

Jongdae raises an eyebrow. “Why in the world did you have to bring your gran into the picture?”

“Okay scratch that. At _this_ rate, you’d be just like my _granpa_ , actually. He gives me kisses at the rate of 0.000000001 per eternity.”

“Baek.”

“Come on, we don’t have forever, I’m about to fall asleep.”

 

 

“I’ll just kiss my Aurora if it comes to that,” Jongdae offers, and Baekhyun only laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer for glove, samsung, four seconds, and constipation jokes. Got them off anonymous joke sites. Sorry, I'm not that great.


End file.
